


Child of Hope

by dansrusse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Biblestuck, Child, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansrusse/pseuds/dansrusse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dolorosa is raising a little boy who will try and change the world. Occasionally, this is hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Child of Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [M_Peaches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Peaches/gifts).



  
    Miryam is born with jade blood, one of only a few, and she will aid the mothergrub in birthing, she will care for the wrigglers in their early moments, until their eyes open and they are set loose in the caverns for the trials. That is what she is born to do, and it is what she does.

    She does not expect to find the little red grub. This is not the way she dreamed her story would unfold. But it is the way it does.

    Miryam is still very young when she finds the red grub. She’s just barely eight sweeps, only days past the ceremony that gave her her adult title, the Dolorosa. She is still a trainee. But the little red grub squeaks at her, and she knows she must have faith, and she must take this grub, now, before the grub is seen, and culled. So she scoops the grub up, tucks it into her blouse, and prays that the child will be quiet.

    She slips away from the main cavern, managing to evade the attentions of the matriarch. The little grub is silent the whole time. She wonders if he’s sick. She hopes not.

    The grub, thank heavens, is fine. She’s fine. They’re outside the caverns. They have a temporary home, hidden away in some highblood’s hoofbeast containing facility. It is a shame that she cannot provide a proper home for the grub, but he seems not to mind. He coos and gurgles and sleeps, mostly. He eats the nutritional paste she stole from the birthing caverns. He does not cry, ever. It is the first sign that there is something special about her little grub.

    Time passes. She finds a proper home, an abandoned hive far enough from civilization that no one will wonder about the jade adult raising a little anonymous troll. Far enough that the little troll does not have to worry about his unusual upbringing. Far enough that she can protect and provide for her child.

    She does the best that she can for her little grub. She tells him the truth, as much as she can, that he is special, that he is different from the others. She gives him everything she can, food she forages for herself, toys stolen from the city not to far away, a husktop, salvaged and repaired. She has never raised a child, no troll has, but she remembers how her lusus looked after her, and so she reflects that to their situation, and loves her child, as much as it is possible, and maybe more so.

    He grows. He is strong, and beautiful, and almost six sweeps old, just half a sweep to go, when she loses him.

    He’s been to the city before, he’s a child and he needs to see the world. And in a world populated with other children, he blends right in. She gets odd looks sometimes, but if she covers her eyes, she still looks young enough to still be on Alternia, and it’s not like all adults are off planet, only most of them.

    So she’s taken him to the city before, yes, but this is the first time she’s lost him.

    She panics. He has never left her side before, never, not once. He has always held her hand as she ran her errands, and never ventured further than she could see. And he always comes back when he’s called. Always.

    She’s distracted when he goes missing. She’s haggling with the lusus who she sells the mushrooms she forages to. He won’t give her a price that is even in the realm of fair, and she’s getting angry.

    “I do not see why you are trying to buy these at such a ridiculous price this week,” she says. “And all the years I’ve been selling to you. I know what’s fair, and what’s not.”

    The lusus replies, and Miryam shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’m going to leave now, and you can come and get me when you’re willing to give a fair price. Come now,” and she turns to grab her child and go - and he’s not there. The blood drains from her face.

    “Yeshua!” She cries. “Yeshua!” But he does not respond. She spins round and round, looking for him, but he is no where to be seen. Miryam turns back to the lusus.

    “Where did the child that was next to me go,” she pleads, but the lusus does not know. He says there was no grub next to her, that she’d been alone the entire time.

    Tears are flowing from her eyes now, bright green and slipping down her face. What if someone took him? The child trade runs strong even without adults. What if someone found out his blood color and culled him? Her child is missing, and anything could be happening to him.

    “Please,” Miryam begs the lusus. “Help me find him. Imagine if it were your charge. Please, please help me. He’s all I have, he’s important.” The lusus looks at her, really looks at her for the first time, and then he nods.

    “Thank you so much,” she says.

    They begin the search, all through the market, but Yeshua is no where to be seen. He is not at any of his favorite stalls, nor is he at the pond he so adores. He is not under the fig tree. Miryam is about to give up when she finds up.

    She hears him before she sees him. Her boy certainly has a set of lungs on him.

    “What were you thinking?” he is shouting. “How on Alternia did that seem like a good idea? ‘Oh, I see this lowblood. Guess I’ll beat the fuck out of him, why the hell not?”

    And there he is, pinning two blue bloods against a wall of an alley way. “For fuck’s sake, she’s a troll, just like you are.”

    Miryam watches as Yeshua scolds the older, larger trolls. He’s so confident, so sure, that these trolls will not hurt him. He’s not worried at all, whereas she stands trembling with fear for her child.  
    “Yeshua, I was looking all over for you! What have you been doing?”

    Yeshua ignores her, and helps up the yellow blood lying on the floor of the alley. “Are you alright?” he asks. “You’d better be, because the Dolorosa is yelling and if I keep ignoring her, she’s going to be really mad.”

    She can’t help it, a laugh burbles up inside her. It is then she knows, truly knows, that her child is going to change things.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked this! I saw the prompt, and kept turning it over in my head. There's a song I know, "Child of God," by Amy Grant, and every time I hear it, I wonder about Mary's story. And I keep thinking that I'll write it, but I never do. And the Dolorosa, well, she's the same, isn't she? She raised a little boy and watched him shake the world, and then she watched him die. What was it like to be his mother, I wonder? So I tried to explore that in this piece, and I ended up having a lot of fun retelling the story of Jesus at the temple. Guys, me and biblical allusions. We are best friends, as I am sure you can tell. Anyways, I'm getting ranty. I hope you enjoyed the piece.


End file.
